ight a change came over him that sat upon the Rock
of Desolation. The Solitude and the Silence still enfolded him, but the
Star of Love had arisen in his firmament, ushering in a new day and new
hope to his soul. And he no longer trembled as he sat upon the rock, but
with new energy he worked and with exceeding patience he waited. And as
he worked interest in life returned to him, and ambition returned.

One day he copied "Ulalume" upon a long, narrow slip of paper and rolled
it into one of the tight little rolls that all the editors knew and
Mother Clemm made a pilgrimage to the city especially on account of it.
First she tried it at _The Union Magazine_, which promptly rejected it.
It was too "queer" the editor said. But _The American Review_ agreed to
take it and to print it without signature--for this poem must be
published anonymously, if at all, the poet insisted. It soon afterward
appeared and Mr. Willis copied it into the next number of _The Home
Journal_ with complimentary editorial comment.

The result was a new sensation--the reader everywhere declared himself
to be brought under a magic spell by the words of this remarkable
poem--though he frankly owned that he did not in the least understand
them; which was as Edgar Poe intended.

* * * * *

Even the old dream of founding a magazine returned and possessed him as
it had so often possessed him before. It was in the interest of the
magazine, which he still proposed to name _The Stylus_, that he
determined to give his new work, "Eureka!" as a lecture, in various
places. He did give it once--in New York--coming out of his seclusion
for the first time, upon a frosty February night. The rhapsody,
delivered in his low but musical and dramatic tones, thrilled his
audience, but it was a small audience, and when soon afterward, the work
was published by the _Putnams_ it was a small number of copies that was
sold.

And again Edgar Poe was desperately poor. Yet he had seen the Star of
Love--"Astarte's bediamonded crescent"--usher in a new morning; and he
waited and worked in hope.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Autumn with its enchanted October night, and winter filled with work and
spent in deep seclusion at Fordham, and spring with its revival of plans
for _The Stylus_, and the appearance of "Eureka!" as a book, and its
author's return to the world as a lecturer, slipped by.

About midsummer The Dreamer lay a night in the old town of